


Caught You Smiling At Me

by rocknerd



Category: Led Zeppelin
Genre: 1970, Bron-Yr-Aur, Classic Rock, Fluff, Led Zeppelin - Freeform, M/M, One Shot, Sweet, sunrise
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-21
Updated: 2018-02-21
Packaged: 2019-03-22 02:46:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13754628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rocknerd/pseuds/rocknerd
Summary: Jimmy remembers exactly when he fell in love.





	Caught You Smiling At Me

**Author's Note:**

> Songs I listened to while writing this:  
>  _Bron-Yr-Aur_ (uh duh)  
>  _That Kid In Fourth Grade Who Really Liked the Denver Broncos_ \- Chris Zabriskie (works really well with anything remotely sentimental)

It’s a discernible moment. A flicker of clarity that smacks him in the face. He doesn’t know what to call it. 

_Love?_ he asks himself. 

_No,_ he’s been in love before. _Hasn’t he?_ It sure felt like it at the time. 

But _this_ — this is different. It catches him off guard. It toys with him; the thought pushes and pulls and clamours his head to the point of suffocation. 

It _hurts._

That’s how he knows it isn’t love. Love hurts too, but not this much, he’s convinced himself. Love wouldn’t throw him in the deep end when it knew he couldn’t swim. Love might wash over him in an unexpected wave, but he knows for sure that it would never drag him kicking and screaming into the middle of the ocean and leave him to drown. That isn’t any sort of love he wants. And it isn’t love anyway. He feels it now, the strange plummeting in his chest and the sickly ache that plagues his body in a way that is at once both physically crippling and simply in his mind. 

He knows exactly when it started, and why.  
He can feel the hairs stand up on his arms every time he relives it. 

* 

It’s cold and misty and green up at Bron-Yr-Aur. He’s awake because Robert’s shoving him harshly and jumping about on his bed like a little kid, yelling excitedly about something he can’t understand and _god, he just wants to sleep._

So maybe he isn’t _all_ awake. 

But Robert then puts his big hands on either side of his face and shakes him violently, making frustrated noises. Jimmy groans and opens his eyes slowly, greeted by a blurry bun of golden and layers of nightclothes and a smile so wide it can’t be real. Laughter tinkles through the stone-walled room, and before he can ask what Robert wants the blankets are ripped away from him and he’s being pulled onto his feet. He stumbles along, wincing at the tight grip on his arm as he’s manoeuvred out the main door (still barefoot) and onto the front steps. It’s freezing, and as the two of them plonk onto the stone he’s lost all his drowsiness, instead wishing he could run around the house if just to warm himself in some way. He asks Robert why they’re sitting here so early, because really it doesn’t even look like it’s morning. The sky that wraps around them is pitch black and stippled with galaxies, and he can barely see past the blond’s face. Robert hums thoughtfully, and promises him the wait will be worth it; that when the time comes, Jimmy’ll understand. 

He doesn't think anything’s worth waking up at two for (somehow he persuades Robert to let him step indoors for a quick look at the clock after a good twenty minutes of convincing him that _no Robert, why on Earth would I be lying?_ ) but there’s no argument to be made, so he humours the singer and sits by him, looking silently out into the vast emptiness. Their legs touch for warmth and their shoulders touch for warmth and sometime later their hands find each others’ solely for the warmth and eventually Jimmy rests his head on Robert’s shoulder as they hold soft conversation about meaningless things (pollen, the best Johnny Burnette records, why Jimmy spends so much money on stupid imitation watches.) 

As they talk, the world slowly lifts its face and he can see the sprawling expanses of greenery that cocoon the little cottage. A bird flies by, twittering merrily, and suddenly Robert jumps up. He squeezes Jimmy’s hand and orders him to sit up straight and look ahead. His voice is eager and earnest and adorably lilting as he stares unblinking at the scenery before them. 

Jimmy knows what he’s supposed to be looking at. The sunlight pouring over the hills and trickling through the valleys, painting the peaks golden-blue as the dawn pushes through the night into the morning-time. He knows it’s a sight not to miss. But Robert is just so much more interesting a vision. His billowing flaxen curls frame his face and shine with the light sieved through the clouds. His eyes are alight with a wonder that Jimmy couldn’t look away from if he tried. He hears a catch in the blond’s breath as he watches the sun lift beyond the horizon in a way that’s probably too beautiful to imagine, but all Jimmy can think about is how gentle those lips look, how soft and pretty and pink. He’s transfixed, and he doesn’t think about why, or whether or not this fascination is something more than attraction, or even the implication of it _being_ attraction. He just watches. 

And just when he thinks the view can’t get any better, Robert smiles. 

It spreads across his face slowly, meekly, breaking by the dimples that appear. His cheeks flush, and he shifts himself as he continues to watch the sunrise. When the sight settles and a warmth gushes through their veins, he looks content. His eyes meet Jimmy’s, and in that moment, Jimmy’s lost to the world. He knows he’s reached the point of no return, because nothing has ever felt this awful and devastating and incredibly exhilarating all at the same time. His heart is battering his rib cage with with its ferocious thumping and he can’t stop the sigh that escapes him when Robert cocks his head to the side and looks at him with a coyness Jimmy can’t quite comprehend.  
And then, just as the moment arrives, it’s over, and Robert smacks his arm in annoyance. 

He didn’t witness the glimmer of dawn that Robert was oh so enamoured with— that he woke up at two in the bloody morning to see. He grins as he’s told off for wasting a perfect opportunity to lose himself in the beauty of the natural world, but as they walk back indoors, the singer letting his hair cascade down his back as he hums a tune, Jimmy doesn’t think he’s missed much. 

**Author's Note:**

> Attempt#2 at major fluff. I think this one turned out okay, but I don't know... I'm working on getting Jimmy's internal dialogue right, but I guess for now this will have to suffice.  
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
